Not just the tumult, even silence may beat tonight
Each syllable of rhythm may get defeat tonight
When words become futile to express the sorrow
For God sake—tell me—what shall I repeat tonight
And somewhere in deserts of Iraq—Shimr yelled
"I will behead Husayn, if he didn't retreat tonight"
F, N and few more have stormed the love treasure
These are the men who don't look neat tonight
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
Not just the tumult, even silence may beat tonight
Each syllable of rhythm may get defeat tonight
When words become futile to express the sorrow
For God sake—tell me—what shall I repeat tonight
And somewhere in deserts of Iraq—Shimr yelled
"I will behead Husayn, if he didn't retreat tonight"
F, N and few more have stormed the love treasure
These are the men who don't look neat tonight
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